Best Laid Plans
by Niko
Summary: Optional sequel to "A Marriage of State". Mpreg.
1. Chapter 1

If you haven't read "A Marriage of State", you will likely be quite confused reading this. This is the optional sequel to the aforementioned story. I tried to put as much into this first chapter as I could to not waste too much of people's time as they consider if they really want to read this one. Anyway, short and informative and we'll get to the actual plot later since there's other items of set up to deal with here.

Anyway, hope you don't hate it.

~Niko

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><p>Standing in his room, looking out over the rooftops covered in fall leaves, Yuuri could not help but think that married life suited him quite well. There were very little changes to the day to day he remembered having lived in the times before. He woke up in bed with Wolfram and Greta every morning, he took his meals with his family before going off to work with Gunter and Gwendel, he goofed off with Conrad in the yards playing catch or went riding with him and Wolfram around the town and surrounding lands. At the end of the day he would unwind in his room and if it had been a bad day, Wolfram would either make him feel validated in his complaints or tease him till he too saw how childish or stupid he was being. Being married to his friend was almost the same as their friendship alone had been minus the anxiety of his then unwanted affections. It was nice. The added bonus of rampant sex almost any time he wanted it was certainly a factor in his overall approval of their relationship status as well.<p>

Sex; it was probably something he could have lived several more years without and not missed but having had it made him feel like there was never enough. They'd been secretly married for four months and still he reacted almost instantly to any sly or sultry smile, every tilt of his chin, every bit of skin not normally revealed by Wolfram's signature blue uniform. Yuuri was driving _himself _crazy. He'd have thought his husband a saint for putting up with his desires but for the fact that Wolfram almost always started it one way or another. It was the honeymoon phase as Conrad so embarrassingly put it. More embarrassing, however, was the fact that everyone else seemed just as in the know as to why at any hour of the day the door to the king's chamber might be locked. Yuuri still could not look Gwendal in the eye and he imagined the mazoku took some kind of pleasure in making his brother's lover uncomfortable. Gunter feinted regularly. Celi was beside herself.

The wedding, the ex-Maou promised, would be the most extravagant thing ever seen-even more fantastic than her own. Between flowers and napkins, food and festivities, music and day long before and after parties, Yuuri had dealt with just about enough wedding planning to last his lifetime and then some. The invitations had already been sent, the date chosen by Gunter and his fanatical memory: the three year anniversary of Yuuri's arrival in Shin Makoku. It was the day he'd accidentally become engaged to the rude, blonde prince. It seemed very fitting though it was less than six months away. It made Celi frantic with excitement and kept Wolfram occupied for most of the day. More than anything else, Wolfram needed the distraction. His distant, preoccupied expressions made Yuuri worry more than perhaps they should have. Just because wounds had healed did not mean they did not leave scars, though, and Wolfram carried one on the back of his name for everyone to see.

Then again, the only person who seemed to mind hearing "Wolfram von Bielefeld Havard" was Yuuri. It was another reason to look forward to their public wedding. He was eager to scratch out that name and let if fade away with the rest of the memories like the autumn leaves drifting away from the skeletal branches of trees.

It was autumn again; the one year anniversary of many things was approaching or had passed. Yuuri wished he had a better mind for dates and hoped Wolfram was as bad as he was at least. It was hard to tell if his husband was quiet or bitter for current reasons or in memory of things that had passed. Not that he was often either. Married life seemed to suit Wolfram too, calming his otherwise erratic and exaggerated personality quirks. Yuuri loved him calm as much as he loved him riled. Four months and nothing had changed except to grow stronger. Yuuri felt good about it, about himself and their stupid and rash decisions. That was just them; they weren't planners. The longer things continued, the more he cherished that spontaneity.

From the bed behind him Wolfram groaned as he stretched, nestled warmly under blankets after another mid-afternoon romp. Yuuri looked over at him, smiling at the clear signs of their activities in the disaster of his hair and marks along his collar bones. Wolfram rubbed his eyes then let his head fall back on the pillow, exhaling long and slow as he stared up at the bed's canopy.

Yuuri walked back to his side, sitting down on the bed and leaning a short kiss to his lips. "Morning," he joked.

Wolfram rolled his eyes, smiling despite his attempts to look agitated. "Afternoon. You didn't sleep?"

"Not really. I thought I'd stay all the same." He brushed his fingers through his husband's hair, doing his best to fix what was more or less a hopeless mess.

Wolfram smiled a little more. "You're a romantic wimp, Yuuri."

"And you're spoiled," he kissed him again. "I guess that's partially my fault."

"Everything is your fault." Wolfram gave his bottom lip a teasing bite then rolled away, reaching for his clothes to make the most of a lazy day. "Don't forget you said you'd get away early tonight. We need to discuss some things."

"I know," Yuuri stood and grabbed Wolfram's jacket from the back of a chair to assist. "It's not about the black decorations, is it? I don't care what you and Celi decide on but black is just.. macabre for a wedding, demon king or not."

Wolfram pulled his trousers up from under the bed, one sock still in the pant leg and the other somehow missing. He sighed, tossing the pair onto the mattress as he fished for the other. "No, it's nothing to do with the wedding. You remember how I said I wanted a big family?"

Yuuri did, vaguely, and could recall as well his own response to that at the time. "Yeah. I guess I wouldn't mind a little brother or sister for Greta. If we're going to talk about adoption, though, shouldn't we ask Gunter or someone to talk too?"

Wolfram's head hit the underside of the bed with a thunk, his muttered cursing hard to miss.

"You alright?"

"Fine. No, no Gunter. No anyone." Wolfram crawled out with the other sock in his grasp, scowling with the hint of a pout in the corners of his mouth. "We already have an adopted child, Yuuri. I'd like us to have a few of our own as well."

Yuuri cocked his head to the side. "Isn't that cheating?"

Wolfram's incredulous gaze made it rather clear that he'd missed the point entirely. The sock thrown in his face cleared any further doubt.

"What have they been teaching you all this time? Do you know absolutely nothing? With _me_, Yuuri! If you think I'd let you go anywhere _near_ a woman let alone _impregnate one_ you are out of your mind!"

"I don't think Gunter thought teaching me the birds and the bees was as important as diplomacy!"

"What do birds and bees have to do with this?"

"I have no idea!" Yuuri held the blue jacket and thrown sock out for his husband to take, small peace offerings as he bought time to think.

Wolfram snatched them from him, dressing with agitation visible over his whole body. "I can't believe I have to explain this sort of thing to you."

"I always thought you guys were just being ridiculous! Boys don't have babies!" Yuuri wasn't sure why he was still shouting. Perhaps it was to scare away the utter absurdity of the situation.

"Not humans or half-breeds but full blooded mazoku men do." Wolfram buttoned his white undershirt, ends tucked haphazardly into the top of his trousers. "Look, Yuuri, my cycle is coming up soon and I'm not going to miss it this year. We'll talk about this later but you _cannot _bring it up with anyone else, understood?"

Yuuri shook his head. No, no, he did not understand in the slightest. "Why can't I talk to Conrad or something? He'd explain it and then you wouldn't have to."

"Conrad would explain it to you and then explain why we should wait and then come find me and make sure I'd taken my herbs. He thinks we're moving too fast as it is."

"Well... we are moving a _little _fast, don't you think?"

"No, I don't." Wolfram scoffed, rolling his eyes as he finished with his jacket. He sat as he pulled on his boots. "Yuuri, I'd have had you by now if we were moving fast. In many ways, we are moving very, _very _slowly."

Yuuri turned bright red, averting his eyes in a moment's unease. The drapes on the bed were nice. "You really want to do that, huh?"

"Yuuri. I have a penis."

"Wolfram, you cannot keep reminding me you have a penis and then come out with '_Oh, by the way, I can have a baby_' and not expect my brain to explode."

"Well... grow up." Wolfram stood, wrinkled and disheveled but dressed enough for the moment. He walked over to the water basin to wet his hair and face.

Yuuri watched him, a little stung by his reply but more curious and confused than hurt. He took his seat on the bed once more, not bothered by his own lack of shoes for the time being. He'd finish getting himself ready later. He watched Wolfram scowl at his own reflection and try his best to tidy his hair in the mirror above the basin. He was in a foul mood, his grace completely lost as he fumbled at brushes and dropped face towels. "You know, maybe we should just have the talk now so that you have the rest of the day to not be mad at me instead of wait to be pissed off all night long."

"We're not discussing anything anymore. My mind is made up and you're just going to have to deal with it."

Yuuri nearly face-planted into the blankets. "That is not how it works, Wolfram!" He scrambled off the bed, approaching his husband with as much stature as he could muster. "I just want to know what the hell is going on; I never said I didn't want to! You have to at least _try _to explain it before you rage at me! I'm guessing you can't exactly do this without my help and even if you can, we're married and I still get a say in this!"

Wolfram slammed his hairbrush down, shoulders shaking just slightly with the tremors of contained aggression. Yuuri held his ground-as seemed to work better than retreating in the long run.

He put his hand against his lover's back, rubbing gently in small circles over the sky blue threads. "You can't honestly be this mad at me over something like this. So nobody thought to explain mazoku reproduction; it's not this big a deal. And you know, maybe Conrad would be right saying it's too much too soon. I'm not exactly the most mature seventeen year old and you're... well, you're you."

Wolfram shook his head, pushing away from the basin to turn and face him. His scowl had become subdued but his displeasure was still obvious. He leaned back with his arms crossed over his chest, hair slightly damp now but orderly once more. "Yuuri, have I ever told you about my father?"

It was an odd question. Odder still was the moment in which Yuuri realized the answer. "No.. actually, I don't think you've ever mentioned him at all. Did we invite him to the wedding?"

"No, he's dead. Has been for as long as I can remember." Wolfram wiped a bead of water from his temple as it rolled down from his hair. "I know what he looked like because he and my Uncle favored each other. I never bothered asking about him, though, and no one's really thought to talk about him to me. It can be a painful subject and I guess they figure it's better not to bring it up."

Yuuri nodded, following his words but not his intention. "Right.. I guess that's probably true. Wolfram, what-"

"I don't want to leave that same silence behind," Wolfram's voice was steady but his body was not. His shoulders trembled again as he hugged his arms at the elbows. "I want my kids to have memories of me. Sixty is a good age; if the youngest is about sixty then we could have had plenty of time to have played and I could have taught him all the important things by then that a father should pass on. That gives us about ten years to fit in all the kids we're going to have. I'll settle for three given the circumstances so we need to figure in the time it takes to have a baby, the time spent in between for me to cycle again; we'll be lucky if we can fit three into ten years, honestly."

The seventy year limit. Yuuri still managed to amaze himself with how easily something like that slipped his mind. As Murata had explained it, Wolfram would live to be an Earth equivalent of twenty-seven years old thanks to Shinou's quick thinking resurrection. It was easier for Yuuri to understand it that way than it was to imagine the problem with only living to be a hundred and fifty. One sounded ancient, the other a tragedy. He didn't think about it much. It didn't affect them in their daily life. He hadn't thought it would, anyway.

Yuuri rubbed the back of his neck, not sure what to say or think given his husband's insistence. "I never really thought we'd have to worry about that sort of thing. Children aging, I mean. I just... Wolfram, raising a kid who can talk and let me know when I'm being a bad father is one thing but..I... I don't know if I'm ready to start a person from scratch."

He knew it wouldn't be what he wanted to hear, and Wolfram's bitter expression did not disappoint. The blonde leaned forward, intense green eyes bright with flames and voice low, husky even. "Every year I have to wait for you to grow up is a year I don't get to spend with our children when they do. If you're not ready, fine; I can do most of this myself and when you're ready you can jump in. I can handle it all; I can do feedings and changings and the staying up all night and I'm not even going to pretend I'm not going to be a little resentful about it but these are _my_ deadlines and if I had a full life, I probably would have wanted to have waited too. But I know I want kids and I know I don't want to leave them when they're too young to remember me so this is what we have to work with. This is the plan. And I will resent you far more for making me miss out on our children than I ever will for making me spend all my time looking after them by myself."

Yuuri swallowed hard, mouth dry. "Wolfram... this would be a lot easier if we told them."

"If it becomes an issue, we will," he promised, though it sounded empty. "But I've been home for months, we're going to have a spectacular wedding, everything is going great and I want things to just be happy. No dark clouds. I don't want them to be worried or sad on my behalf when they should be celebrating."

"... Alright. Okay. So... what are we talking about, then? We start trying for a baby tonight?"

Wolfram's small, sad smile was worth giving in for, even as it filled Yuuri with dread and doubt. He gave Yuuri a kiss, pulling away rather than embracing him as he turned to the mirror again, fixing the details here and there on his person to be public ready. His reflection betrayed the tremors now in his fingers as he pressed his collars into order. He did not raise his face to the mirror's glass.

"I won't hit my cycle for a few more weeks; a month, maybe a little more. I haven't actually had a cycle since my first one but I think it's coming. I haven't taken the herbs and I'm feeling kind of sore so maybe being in human territories for so long hasn't gotten me too messed up."

Yuuri was just going to pretend for the time being that he knew what any of that meant. He nodded along, most of his brain still running in circles at the apparently very real possibility of a baby being in his immediate future. "Right.. okay. Well, uh.. just.. keep me posted. Let me know if there's anything I'm supposed to do."

Wolfram nodded, finally looking no worse for wear than he had when they'd entered. He kissed Yuuri again, suddenly in a hurry. "You can do me one favor for now," he said, already walking towards the door. "Go ask Murata about the birds and the bearbees. I'm sure he can explain it to you."

Oh, god. "Murata is going to laugh at me."

"I'll do worse if you make me do it."

"Alright, alright, I'll ask him!" Yuuri held his hands up in surrender, watching Wolfram's back as he left the room, closing the door hard behind him.

In the back of his mind Yuuri couldn't help wonder if Wolfram wasn't secretly giving him permission to discuss things with his friend above and beyond the scope of anatomy.


	2. Chapter 2

Generally, when someone began a sentence with "_Promise you won't laugh_", Murata was assured, promise or no promise, he was going to at least smile wryly. Seldom did those words invoke a solemn bond of trust between himself and the speaker. With those words, the very nature of the inquest was already set and known by both. One never said "_Promise you won't laugh, but my mother has just died._"; it was always more along the lines of "_-but I was just flushed down a public toilet and crowned king of the demon tribe._" Such things deserved at least a little grin; some manner of acknowledgement as to what was assuredly laughable. It was almost always Yuuri who approached him as such and Yuuri was never one to disappoint with the absurdities he dealt with. He'd never laughed, though-not once. Not a full laugh, anyway. A good natured chuckle did not count as a promise breaker in Murata's book. But on this occasion, despite knowing ahead of time that the contents of the rest of his sentence were probably on the humorous side-

"Murata, promise you won't laugh but... can boys have babies?"

-Murata, pausing only for a beat, let out a sudden bleat of a laugh, nearly launching himself back off his chair's legs.

They were sitting in his quarters at the temple, a rare occurrence but allowed on the grounds that the king not wander. Murata knew the temple well, had a room located close to the common rooms and far from the private quarters of the priestesses. He had a window that looked out across the communal walks with the windows open to let in the cool breeze that smelled of pine, sawdust and embers. They were alone but visible, able to be spotted by any who might think they were up to something untoward in a sacred place that was home to many beautiful women. They were provisions he was well accustomed to, having flirted perhaps a few too many times. Even if it was the Great Sage's life he had returned to, he was still Murata Ken. There was a large difference between being a sage and being a saint.

Yuuri looked at him, cross and pouting from his chair set across the small table. "Murata."

"I'm sorry! I was just.. thinking of Earth." The sage wiped a tear from his eyes, immortalizing the king's serious expression with which he had asked him such a thing. He adjusted his chair, making sure to sit on all four legs properly. "Are you asking me as your surrogate mama?"

"Don't say things like that or I'll never be able to confide in you again." Yuuri put his face in his hands, shaking his head. The tips of his ears were turning dark pink.

Murata knew he should take pity on him but enjoyed being a normal teenager in his friend's company. It felt like ages since they'd spent any amount of time on Earth. He missed goofing around almost as much as he did flirting openly. He set his elbows on the table, watching Yuuri with a grin plastered to his face. "I'm just surprised it took you four months of fooling around to figure out there was a physical difference between humans and mazoku. Wolfram threatening you with paternity?"

"Yes," Yuuri kept his face hidden. "Not threatening... No, yes, okay, threatening. Sort of. He wants us to have a baby and I'm apparently the lamest person on the planet for not knowing anything about this sort of thing and just please don't laugh. I need someone to explain it to me and you're the only one I can really ask."

"I'm touched. I don't know that I'm the best choice, though. Most of the stuff I know is arcane by today's standards. I really have no idea what mazoku do these days."

"I don't need tips on technique; I just wanna know what the hell is going on."

Murata smiled, shaking his head as he looked out the window. Yuuri's embarrassment was palpable. He supposed it was better to take it easy on him before his heart exploded from the pressure of maintaining a deep blush. "Well, if you insist. I did warn you though. If it's going to be out dated, I may as well start from the very beginning." He pulled his glasses off and began wiping them with a small cloth. At the least he'd have something to do with his hands as he spoke. "It's old legend, probably isn't even taught anymore, but maybe it will help set a base line.

Hundreds of thousands of years ago there was one race and one gender-mazoku men more or less. They were specially adapted to the use of maryoku in almost every function of their life-including reproduction-and back then every place on the planet was full of maryoku. But then it started to dry up across the world. Something like that happens, a race either evolves or becomes extinct. So in those places that are now considered human territories there eventually became two distinct genders: one that became specialized in bearing children without maryoku and one that specialized in fertilization. Those who never journeyed and found Shin Makoku became today's humans."

Yuuri looked up from his hands, his face blurry to Murata as he still wiped at the lenses he held. "Murata, you sound like a school teacher. And that can't be true anyway because there are lots of mazoku women."

"Okay, so it was a bad example to call the originating race 'mazoku men'," Murata replaced his glasses, unhappy with the glare they caught through the window. "It's like saying evolution can't be true because there are still monkeys, though. There was one unknown species that somehow became two, distinct but related species and in this case, the maryoku using species had an offshoot that became humans."

"Still doesn't explain mazoku women."

Murata sighed. "It would if you'd let me finish," he said. Yuuri pressed his lips together tight, a sign he'd allow him to do so this time. "Okay, so now there's two genders that in a couple hundred thousand years will become men and women as we know them. But only the ones who stayed in the human territories. Some, despite adapting, never stopped looking for a place that still had maryoku. Eventually they found Shin Makoku as well as a population of that original race who never had to experience the loss of majutsu. Centuries of breeding and you end up with a new species that also has two genders as well but never lost the ability for the male to reproduce without the female."

Yuuri had his 'bullshit' face on. Murata wasn't surprised. "Even if that was true, if there are women around now, why would men still be able to have kids? Wouldn't that.. phase out?"

"Nice nipples you've got there, Shibuya. Looking to lactate any time soon?" The hard blush returned to the king's face. Murata could not help but smile despite his reluctance to continue with the tedious explanation. "Some things don't just fall off the genetic bandwagon that easily."

"So.. when you were a mazoku man.. did you ever..?"

Murata shook his head. "No, I took my herbs like a good boy. Standard birth control. Lets a male mazoku skip his cycle. Used to just be used mostly during war times but I get the impression it's sort of just common practice now. It's not really about not wanting to get pregnant but more not wanting to deal with all the discomfort for nothing."

"Discomfort?" Yuuri cocked his head slightly, red as a tomato still.

"Um... how to put this delicately..." Murata searched the room for some form of visual aid but, deciding against further means of embarrassment, crossed his fingers on the table's top instead and leaned forward. "Okay, imagine you have a big gash on your... arm. And it scabs over, new skin might even form, but the gash underneath is still there. And once a year that skin breaks so the gash is fully open again. And if you skip it, let the skin stay put, the skin heals up more and more until you actually need a doctor to come and cut it open for you because it's healed so completely."

"Thank you for chose my arm."

"You're welcome."

Yuuri averted his eyes, looking a little white for once as he gazed out into the common walk laid in only the finest stone. It was interesting to watch his mind work as his thoughts were rarely so deep as to be hidden or disguised. He was as bad as Wolfram in may ways. Murata could read every twitch of his eyebrow, the angle of his lips, the presentation of his pout, the set of his jaw. Yuuri was no mystery but he was hardly an open book either. He was a page turner, one Murata enjoyed flipping through. This chapter was about what childbearing meant to the king's future. Murata was very interested to see where it was going.

"So.. that's.. that's what happens.. down there?" Yuuri asked, voice hesitant as he searched for the least offensive terms. "There's a.. gash. With skin covering it."

"Well, not a _gash_. Though it's not exactly a vag-"

Yuuri threw his hands over his friend's mouth. Murata could feel the heat rising off his skin. He smelled like geraniums. "You can't say that word out loud! Not here!"

Murata blinked in surprise, leaning back to speak around the palms. "Ah, the only person who would really be listening in is Shinou. What else am I supposed to call it?"

"Call it... I don't know. Lady parts."

"Shibuya, we're in high school."

"We are the only two men in a temple full of beautiful women!"

Well, he had him there. He sighed, adjusting his glasses. "Alright. Okay. It's not really _Lady Parts_. It's not meant for casual, pleasure seeking se-," Murata seemed to catch the wide eyed warning and sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose, "-for love making. Its only purpose is reproductive which is why it's only available for a limited time each year."

"You make it sound like a sales promo."

"You make _me_ sound like a the pervert kid on the play ground." Murata leaned forward again, arms up in exasperation. "_Lady parts_? What am I supposed to say instead of rana? _Male_ lady parts?"

"Oh, god, is that what it's called?"

"Yes. Mazoku boys have a penis and a rana; girls have a _vagina_."

There was a short, audible gasp but not from the blushing face across the table from him. Murata turned his head to the open window, two pairs of batting eyes with long lashes staring back at him. The two priestesses stared without saying a word, one with heliotrope hair shaking her head in disapproval while the other, a blonde, averted her gaze quickly and began to walk along the walkway again.

Murata let his head fall hard to the table's top, not bothering to cushion the blow or move once he'd struck it there.

"I told you you shouldn't use that word."

"I'll never doubt your wisdom again."

Dinner was going to be awkward tonight. Murata pushed himself back up, half expecting Shinou to make an appearance if only to laugh at him. Yuuri wasn't the only one with a friend who took mild pleasure in the folly of others.

"So... what part of the 'down there' makes the gash?" Yuuri asked once the coast was again clear.

Murata let his cheek rest against his fist. "Let's just say you should be grateful you're not a full blooded mazoku. If you think girls on their periods are scary, though, you have never encountered a mazoku going through his cycle."

Yuuri's face pulled into a wince. "You fill me with confidence."

"Same here," Though for very different reasons. Murata sighed, setting all joking aside for the moment. "I can pretty well guess why Wolfram might be pushing for you two to have a baby. I know he's worried about his life expectancy but are you absolutely sure you're ready for that?"

"Honestly? No. But I'm not going to tell him he has to wait when he's like this," Yuuri said. He leaned back in his chair, shoulders slumped in defeat. "After the first kid, maybe he'll think twice about this and wait on a second or maybe we'll just be happy with the one. Just like with Greta, we still have his entire family to help us so it's not a huge mistake it's just a very big deal."

"And you're not going to tell them until he's good and knocked up, right?"

"That's what Wolfram wants."

"What about what you want?"

Yuuri shrugged. "It doesn't matter so much. Doing what he wants now doesn't stop me from doing what I want down the line."

"What he wants means you can't be a kid anymore."

"I'm a king. I think in a lot of ways I stopped being a kid the moment I started to actually take that seriously," Yuuri said, and for the first time in their conversation Murata could see the adult his friend was starting to become. There was still a long way for him to go. Yuuri continued, "I may have less freedom with a baby but... when he's gone, I'm going to have someone there whose a part of him. And maybe right now that's not important but when the time comes, I think it's going to be. He can't be the only one thinking about the future."

Murata nodded, though he found it hard to be swayed. "I'm not going to knock being farsighted but if you look too far forward, you'll miss the joys of the present. He kind of has you whipped."

"There are benefits to catering to him," Yuuri admitted, his sudden look towards the ceiling and sheepish expression saying the unsaid.

The sage smirked. "Benefits that I'm sure are going to take a drastic cut. I wish you well, Shibuya. It's not going to be easy."

"No, I know. I mean, I just got used to his 'down there'. I really didn't expect it to be rearranged on me."

"And most people don't expect fire lions or water dragons to form out of thin air. Majutsu is a very complex and interesting thing."

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><p>And that is how Niko will be doing mpreg in this story. Hopfully it made sence. Wolfram and Yuuri will cover specifics in later chapters but before that, some plot I hope.<p>

Thanks to everyone who has put this story as a favorite already or subscribed to alerts. If you could give a short review as to _why_ you like it as well, I'd very much appreciate it.

~Niko


	3. Chapter 3

Yuuri blinked at the broken seal on the folded parchment, nonplussed but not surprised. The icon pressed into the melted wax on the overlap was still recognizable even as the sides crumbled from a harsh grasp: Small Cimarron; Saralegui.

Wolfram had apparently read his mail.

On Yuuri's large, rectangular desk were small stacks of paper that comprised the daily needs of his country, a smaller stack off on a corner of less immediate concerns, and a basket of special wedding correspondence for both his and Wolfram's attention. Special were the return letters from allies such as Flynn or Bersi or any of the Shin Makoku nobles, the rest of the responses sent to Celi's special wedding committee. This letter was not addressed to Wolfram and Yuuri both, however. As was unsurprising, Sara had written back to Yuuri alone.

Not that that had seemed to have dissuaded the blonde mazoku.

Yuuri turned the letter over his his hands, frowning. "When was Wolfram in here?" he asked.

Gwendal, seated at a conference table, did not bother to look up as he scrawled across another leaflet of parchment with the tip of his quill. "He came by while you were out with Conrad."

Yuuri sighed, plopping down in his chair like a boneless blob as he looked up at the ceiling. He didn't even need to read the letter to know he was probably in trouble. Even if Wolfram trusted Sara as a show of trust in Yuuri, it did not mean he appreciated the attention the foreign king showed him. Sara was worse than Wolfram in many ways, least of which being his lack of embarrassment when it came to being upfront or forward. He could only imagine Sara's response to his wedding announcement. Letter in hand, he didn't _have_ to imagine it, and yet it seemed safer in general than reading it.

"Did he look mad when he left?"

"No," Gwendal said, still unswayed from his task.

That was certainly surprising. Yuuri looked at the letter again, the broken seal, the unwrinkled paper. That it wasn't a crinkled ball placed directly in the waste paper bin was perhaps as good a sign as any that the contents were purely amicable. Yuuri breathed in deep for confidence as he unfolded the thick paper, spreading out the neatly handwritten letter over the top of his desk. He was much better at reading after the time in correspondence with Wolfram. Sara's lovely swirls of letters were harder to decipher than Wolfram's familiar, less flourished script but he leaned in close, taking it slow, as he made his way through the response.

_Dearest Yuuri,_

_I received an invitation to your wedding. I suppose it's only right that I congratulate you. Wolfram is a lucky man. I will do my best to attend but things have been rather busy for me. You'll have to let me know what kind of wedding present you'd like._

_It feels like it's been so long, Yuuri! I watched the whole mess with Trebic with a great deal of interest. You're becoming quite the international sensation. I always knew you'd go far but it seems your plans are evolving far more quickly than I had expected. You'll surpass me for certain at this rate. Don't forget me when you take down Big Cimarron. I can't exactly help but I'm more than willing to take over their throne for you. See what a shame it is for me that you're marrying? We could have made an excellent alliance._

_I've been rather bored of late. There's plenty to do-too much really-but none of it interests me. I feel as though I live vicariously through your adventures some days, waiting for the next bit of news with great anticipation. Do come see me, Yuuri; before you get married. I don't think I'm ready to think of you as a grown man just yet. I want you to be young and free when we meet again._

_Please write back. At the very least, you have to tell me what you and your fiance want as your wedding present. I'll be disappointed if my present is not the best you receive._

_Yours With Love,  
>Sara<em>

Yuuri kept his lips tightly pursed as he read, trying not to smile too much or look too pleased. It had indeed been a very long time since he'd seen his friend. They _were_ friends, despite and sometimes even due to the openness in which Sara dealt with his intentions. He was a bitter but ambitious young man who saw people for their usefulness and not their virtues but no matter how much Yuuri disapproved of his methods and actions, Yuuri could not make himself abandon the friendship he shared with the king. No matter how hard he struck back when cornered by the Small Cimarron leader, Sara always forgave him with no hard feelings. It was an odd conflict void of animosity and somehow just as real a friendship as any he held with the others.

Yuuri put the letter down, sighing as he folded it back neatly.

"Will you be taking anyone besides Conrad?"

"Taking?" Yuuri sat up straighter, unsure for a minute if he had been reading that out loud. Wolfram must have told him. "To Small Cimarron? What makes you think I want to go?"

"Wolfram said to prepare a ship. He suggested Gunter follow as well which I agree would be prudent given the skill of Saralegui's swordsman."

Yuuri's mouth hung open slightly. "_Wolfram_ did? _Wolfram_ wants to visit Sara?"

"He said you should take the trip without him. Wolfram is busy with wedding arrangements," the eldest brother said, looking up just slightly to give Yuuri a brief sideways glance. "I take it there is still a wedding to plan?"

The king stood straighter, hands quickly collecting the letter from the desk. "Of course there is! There's nothing funny going on. Wolfram's just being... very generous."

Gwendal said nothing as he returned to his notes, silence more chiding than words.

Yuuri was unamused. "I'm serious, Gwendal. Look, I'm going to go talk with him right now and get this all straightened out. I'll be back in an hour."

"Your work will be waiting," the militant man reminded him.

Scowling slightly, Yuuri left the room with the letter in hand, pursuing Wolfram through the castle as he tried to guess as to where his secret husband might be. The most obvious choice was Celi's special wedding planning office which had become the communal burial ground for streamers, fabric scraps and drawings. The walls, as Yuuri could recall from his last visit, were covered in pinned up blueprints and design plans. The ex-queen was certainly a fashionable woman but her taste was far more feminine than to Yuuri's liking. He was pleased they'd gotten out of the dressing conversation with suits and tailcoats. He was certain there was a dress being prepared somewhere, though-just in case-and feared exactly who she had in mind to be wearing it. The overwhelming presence of lavender in the decorations and her compliments on his complexion made him nervous.

The wedding planning office was not far from Yuuri's own but he drug his feet as he walked, dreading the traps that laid in wait. Ceri always needed his opinion on something, it seemed, and his ventures into the room often became long sidetracks that only Conrad, Gunter or Gwendal could save him from. Knowing this, he peeked inside before knocking, checking to see if the coast was clear or if Wolfram was even there to be found.

Amidst stacks of invitation responses, small cut chunks of confetti and a considerable amount of glitter, Wolfram sat hunched over with his head on the table. Whether sleeping or just plain miserable, Yuuri couldn't tell. He was alone, however, and thankfully so. He tucked Sara's letter into the back of his pants under his black uniform jacket and pushed the door open, fighting against a bolt of fabric that had fallen in its path and crashing through some buckets of supplies.

Wolfram turned his head to look at him as he failed unequivocally at a stealthy entrance. He said nothing, looking for the most part blank and unconcerned as he turned his pale face back against the wood.

Yuuri dislodged a bucket from his left foot as he stumbled against the table. "Ah, Wolfram. Uh.. you okay?"

Wolfram nodded, hair bouncing with a small shake of gold glitter. "This hurts so much," he groaned. His shoulders bent forward, arms and hands hidden under the desk . "I'm never doing this again."

Yuuri sort of hoped that was true. He pulled up a chair aside him, pushing a box of banner clips across the table. He took his fingers and shook them through Wolfram's hair to dislodge more of the glitter, gold sparkle rising up like a fairy cloud. "Could be worse," he sympathized, lacking for anything more to say.

"I really don't need _you_ to tell me that." Wolfram spat. He sighed heavily as he kicked at Yuuri's ankle with the side of his foot, not hard but a definite strike. "I should have known big brother's horror stories were accurate."

Yuuri's brain came to a full stop. "Gwendal? ... Is.. Is Gwendal a daddy?" As absurd as it sounded, there was a certain something to his mental image of the tactician knitting baby blankets and footies in a rocking chair.

Wolfram sighed. "No. When Gwendal was about my age, Anissina switched his herbs with something else. He'd gone twenty-odd years without a cycle before that. Said it was the worst month of his life. Conrad said he spent his whole time hiding from Anissina in case she meant to impregnate him for science."

Yuuri really hoped it was okay to laugh. Even if it wasn't, there was very little he could do about it as his lips buzzed around a sudden, surprised sputter of amusement. Wolfram's small smirk helped assure him; it was at least a little bit funny. "I'm not sure which is worse."

"Right now, I'd say making up for missed cycles." Wolfram leaned back in his chair, gold glitter falling to his shoulders as he straightened up. The sunlight made him sparkle but it could not help bring better color to his pallid face. "Give me a month and I'll probably agree again that Anissina is worse, though," he said.

Yuuri nodded, unable to rid his mind of an image of a young Gwendal hiding under his bed with a pillow tucked between his legs as Wolfram now sometimes slept. It would help make dealing with his scarier moods a little easier for at least a few weeks.

As he settled in to his chair with the last of his laugh, Yuuri looked around at the utter shambles the room was in. It seemed every time he walked in, there was more useless crap brought in just to study, move around, and reject to a large pile that looked no different from the pile of planned decorations. One shade of red looked the same to Yuuri as another-except for scarlet; scarlet Yuuri could pick out from a mile away. That had been the one bolt of fabric he himself had junked. He almost wished he'd saved his one veto for the black but at least he'd gotten rid of _that_.

Wolfram sighed as he looked around as well at the barely organized shamble the room was in. He shrugged it off, not his mess to clean. "I take it you found his letter. You wouldn't dare come in here out of choice for any other reason."

"I did. Where is your mother, by the way?"

"She went to get me a hot water bottle. Said it'll do the trick for any soreness." He slipped his hands between his thighs like a splitting wedge, curling his shoulders forward once more.

Yuuri was surprised. "You told her?"

"No, she thinks it's from too many nights of burning passion. It's supposedly our little secret. I think she'd a little jealous."

"I never want to know what your mother thinks ever again," Yuuri begged, face red and hidden in his palms, yet another reason added to the list of those for why Celi needed to not be involved or informed on their relationship. He wasn't sure how much better his own mother would be, but he was fairly certain on Earth he would never come home to find a bottle of '_Mama's Favorite Anal Lube_' on his bedside table for luck.

That thought right there was most certainly going to help him cope with the prolonged celibacy issue. Maybe even indefinitely.

Yuuri had to change the subject before his mind did any more damage. "Uh, anyway-ah...Gwendal said you wanted me to take Conrad and Gunter and go visit Sara. What is that all about?"

Wolfram exhaled loudly and put his head back on the table. "Yuuri, no one is blind. My mother's already noticed and I can't avoid Conrad and Gunter for the next few weeks just to be sure they don't notice too. Of everyone else, they're the most likely to figure out what we're doing; Conrad because he's weird enough to probably still remember my cycle and Gunter because he's paranoid when it comes to you. If they're both out of the picture while I'm going through this, we're that much less likely to end up in a huge debate over it."

"So you wouldn't be coming with me?" Yuuri asked, still somewhat shocked at the positions they had taken in the discussion regardless of the reasoning. "Wolfram, that's way more suspicious than you putting hot water bottles between your legs."

"I have a wedding to plan, remember? We can't both up and leave when there are still preparations to be made. You go see Saralegui, and by the time you get back I'll be ready for you."

And then they'd make a baby and life as he knew it would effectively be over. Perhaps a bachelor's fortnight out would be ideal under the circumstances. At the very least it would keep his mind occupied. Yuuri still did not feel quite right about it, though. Getting Conrad and Gunter out of the castle was an okay plan, but to visit _Saralegui_? "I feel like I missed something very important. Since when are you okay with me spending time with people who even I will admit are a little flirtatious?"

"Only a little? Yuuri, he's a predator. Trust me, I know my own type." Wolfram put his hand on Yuuri's thigh, giving it a squeeze. "You're too cute for your own good, you know? But if you cheat on me, I will kill you. Doubt me and see. So unless you have a death wish, you'll fight him off to the death to come back to me no different from how you left."

It would almost have been romantic if it wasn't terrifying. The chill in his voice made it very, very clear he was as serious as he sounded. Yuuri gulped, laughing nervously. "I thought maybe you had become a little more secure instead."

"You're kind of a push-over, Yuuri. Just making sure you know I push harder." He squeezed his thigh again. "If it helps, I am sure you don't need me telling you to be faithful. I know you love me."

Yuuri kissed his cheek. "For old time's sake I guess, huh?"

"Nn. I guess." Wolfram tugged on his shirt as he began to pull away, drawing him in for a real kiss. He gave the king's bottom lip a nip as their lips parted. "But I _will_ kill you," he made clear.

Yuuri rolled his eyes and taking a handful of gold glitter from its vessel, dumped it over Wolfram's head.

Ten minutes later, Yuuri reentered his own office, a trail of confetti paper, streamers, and enough glitter to light up the night sky stuck to his hair and uniform. Gwendal looked up to see who had entered, looked back down at his work, then raised his head again, slowly, simply staring with no words.

Yuuri blushed, trying to ignore his sparkly state of mess. He cleared his throat. "Conrad and I will be taking a trip to Small Cimarron. Gunter too, if possible. I'll write Saralegui with our intentions tonight."

"Conrad and Gunter but not Wolfram," Gwendal reiterated with a lingering question.

"Someone has to plan this wedding," Yuuri smiled sheepishly, "Or uh.. do you like my suggested wedding outfit?" He raised his arms and did a small turn for the tactician, feeling stupid but more willing to lie than admit he'd started a fight he was doomed to lose.

Gwendal looked back down at his work, the hint of a smile barely visible on his lips. "It's a good thing you're a better leader than you are a designer," he said.

Yuuri couldn't agree more.


End file.
